


another place (person) for devotion

by lovingatsumu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, M/M, author projects herself onto komori, brief appearances by osamu and the msby black jackals, gratuitous descriptions of love and feelings, spoiler-type beat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingatsumu/pseuds/lovingatsumu
Summary: Atsumu is brilliant, glorious, and talented beyond belief. He is an absolute asshole and the most dedicated setter he’s ever seen.The world watches him in reverence.Sakusa watches him and knows, without a doubt, he would like to live the rest of his life by Atsumu’s side.---soft slice of life sakuatsu.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 56





	another place (person) for devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [thunder in a bottle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583712) by [favspacetwink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/favspacetwink/pseuds/favspacetwink), [moonlumie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlumie/pseuds/moonlumie). 
  * Inspired by [fall into you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707949) by [astroeulogy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astroeulogy/pseuds/astroeulogy). 



Atsumu is brilliant, glorious, and talented beyond belief. He is an absolute asshole and the most dedicated setter he’s ever seen.

The world watches him in reverence.

Sakusa watches him and knows, without a doubt, he would like to live the rest of his life by Atsumu’s side.

***

Sakusa will never admit, not even now that he’s dating him, that Atsumu is absolutely riveting to watch play. He would not be surprised if Atsumu is aware of this. It’s in the fluidity of his movements, the care and delicacy in which he handles the ball, and the pure determination and aggression that radiates from him.

A lot of setters Sakusa has observed and played with are quiet, assessing, and calculating. They are sharp-tongued and move silently, a bridge between team members to connect the plays.

Atsumu moves like he’s the final killer, the predator, the best one on the court. He moves like he has the most important role and he knows it with every single cell in his being and he is going to prove it, again and again. Atsumu plays, not like it’s the last game he’ll ever play, but like he’s always playing his best game.

Atsumu is a _forever_ kind of man.

It’s addicting to watch his boyfriend like this.

When they’re in Sakusa’s car post-practice, Sakusa can’t help but hook a finger on the collar of his hoodie to drag Atsumu forward to kiss him. Atsumu makes a startled sound when he’s pulled. He kisses back though, surprisingly sweet, every time. His mouth curves into a smile before their lips have fully stopped touching.

“Ooh, I get it.” Atsumu smirks, cocks an eyebrow. He’s so arrogant, it physically pains Sakusa. “You just love me a lot.”

Sakusa looks at him blankly.

“Your ego is clogging up the car, Miya,” he says, pulling away.

Atsumu catches his wrist, long fingers curling over the sleeve.

“It’s okay,” he grins, eyes curving. He’s disgustingly attractive like this: radiating giddiness, infuriatingly comfortable in the cramped space of the front seat, touching Sakusa. “Everyone loves me.”

Sakusa has never heard a bigger bluff. He raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who is smiling and golden and cocksure. Confidence disguised as arrogance and he’s never missed a set when it mattered most. It’s impossible not to love him and Sakusa knows exactly why people are not, in fact, infatuated with Miya Atsumu.

He lets Atsumu kiss him again, chaste and firm and quick. Atsumu’s eyes are bright when they pull away.

“I knew you loved me,” he crows, but his smile is a soft, secret thing.

Sakusa cocks his head a little. “Yeah,” he says, just to watch eyes widen and a blush spread across Atsumu’s face.

***

It starts like this — they have a new apartment and before they move anything in, Sakusa deep-cleans the entire thing. Atsumu helps because he is surprisingly clean and Sakusa, for some godforsaken reason, trusts him. They scrub the floors and the appliances and the walls.

Atsumu wipes the massive windows down from the very top of them to the window sill itself. He’s backlit by the bright sunlight streaming in, turning his hair a softer gold, outlining the breadth of his shoulders.

Sakusa busies himself with cleaning the granite kitchen counters.

The moving process is a full one. There are several little trips done before the biggest move. Osamu, Aran and Komori are there to help. Some of the Jackals swing by — Meian, with coffee; Bokuto and Hinata, with enthusiasm — to see how things are going, do a little heavy lifting.

Sakusa has them all take off their shoes in the genkan unless they're carrying something too large. Even then, Komori makes a valiant attempt to slip off his slides while still steadily carrying a part of the couch. Sakusa resigns himself to deep vacuuming the carpet again. Nothing except the bed gets assembled because of this.

Osamu has one of his staff bring them onigiri for lunch. When they break to eat, he drifts close to Atsumu, slinging an arm around his neck, drawling something in his ear that makes Atsumu’s face soften.

Komori steals Sakusa’s attention by nudging him a little, leaning into his space. Komori has always been a comfortable, safe person for Sakusa so this proximity has never bothered him.

“Hey,” he eye-smiles, “I’m really proud of you.”

Sakusa raises an eyebrow at him.

Komori just smiles at him. “You were always so cynical about love. You were always like,” he deepens his voice and flattens his tone in what Sakusa guesses is supposed to be an imitation of him, “‘ _No, Motoya-kun, I am not dating and I have no plans to date ever. I am fully happy in absolute solitude_.’”

His cousin beams at him and Sakusa stares at him for a single loaded moment before reaching out and shoving him. Komori laughs as he stumbles back closer. The sound turns some heads. Sakusa can feel the weight of the Miya Twins staring, but he knows that at least one of them is probably looking just at him.

Sure enough, when he looks over, he immediately meets Atsumu’s eyes. His boyfriend grins at him, quicksilver.

Sakusa is absolutely whipped for him and nobody can ever know. Although, he suspects too many people are already aware of this fact.

Komori shuffles close enough to brush their shoulders together. “I’m happy for you,” he says, soft and sappy and impossibly sweet.

Sakusa tries to make a face that expresses how gross he finds affection and his cousin laughs again.

***

Atsumu deals in absolutes. Sakusa likes this about him because it’s one of the ways they’re similar.

There is never any half-assing. Atsumu has never known moderation in his life. He has always either been fully committed or extremely repulsed. Never once, in the many years Sakusa has known him, the months they’ve dated, the hours of games they’re played, has Atsumu delivered anything less than the best he could do.

He wins or he loses. He goes full send or gives nothing at all. When he decides to move, he moves mountains. _We don’t need the memories_ , indeed.

Sakusa knows this feeling of dedication; can feel it in his bones. He has built his own life around precision, sharp edges and the taste of victory, rich and bittersweet and silk-smooth in his mouth.

When they get together, Sakusa tells himself to take it a day at a time.

Two months in and Atsumu tells him that he loves him while making his coffee, a Freudian slip that leaves him glitching. Sakusa kisses him and takes away the full cup before he can drop it.

Seven months in and they have an apartment together because, for some godforsaken reason, Sakusa trusts Atsumu more than anyone he’s ever met. He knows, in the way Atsumu talks with him and the care he brings with him everywhere, that he feels the same way.

Sakusa tells him that he loves him for the first time while Atsumu is brushing his teeth. He does it for the shock factor, mostly, and because he’s been thinking about this for a while. The blond knows it, stares at him gap-mouthed through the mirror.

“Close your mouth,” says Sakusa, genuinely appalled and unfortunately a little endeared.

Atsumu makes a screeching sound, but obligingly spits into the sink, wipes his mouth on a hand towel.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he says, too loud, inordinately aggressive, even for him, for seven in the morning on a Tuesday.

Sakusa says nothing. He watches with mild disinterest as his boyfriend rapidly advances on him, crowding him against the bathroom doorway, It is Sakusa, however, that pulls him forward to kiss Atsumu on the mouth gently.

“I hate you,” Sakusa says when they pull away. “You are truly disgusting and vile and I want to punch you all the time.”

“Can I put my hands on you?” Atsumu asks. Sakusa jerks a nod, his hands trembling where they rest around Atsumu’s neck, fingers spanning across his sharp jawline and defined cheekbones.

Atsumu touches Sakusa’s waist and leans in to kiss him again. He lets him.

“Omi-Omi,” whispers Atsumu, pressing closer, pliant and needy and a pipe dream, truly. Sakusa is well beyond fucked if he finds any form of Miya Atsumu, let alone this one, adorable. “You’re going to regret loving me.”

“Probably,” Sakusa agrees, just to hear Atsumu whine in displeasure, hands tightening on his waist. “I suppose I’ll love you anyway,” he continues, and Atsumu kisses him again.

Sakusa has never wanted to touch a person like he wants to touch Miya Atsumu.

***

Atsumu has never felt this way before. Like he wants to destroy an entire building and scream down the sky and make everything in a better place for Sakusa Fucking Kiyoomi to exist. He hates the soft feeling that unfolds in his chest every time he sees Kiyoomi, his Omi, his fucking boyfriend, up until he begins embracing it so he can figure out how to make Kiyoomi’s shoulders relax and his mouth smile.

He’s never felt as tethered and devoted as he has and is to Sakusa, not even for volleyball. That’s probably the scariest thing of all — his love for one person seeping into one of two constants in his life. (The other constant is Osamu). (Volleyball is the love of his love, his lifeblood and his livelihood.) (Atsumu is damned if he doesn’t feel stars rattle in his marrow when he plays with Sakusa — who is, against all odds, the other love of his life). (He will repeat these words until the day he dies. Sakusa deserves to know he is adored, except when he’s being a fucking dickhead).

(The world knows Atsumu is in love because, according to twin, Atsumu ‘wouldn’t know subtlety if it threw him a parade and smashed him over the head.’)

(He should have eaten Osamu in the womb).

Atsumu monologues this all to himself in the bathroom mirror like he, looking back to the months leading up to his realization of feelings, can’t see his interest in Sakusa and the fire that lit up in his veins when he bantered with him. If he chooses not to look close enough, maybe he can even gloss over the ache he felt, still feels, to take care of Sakusa, who is six-foot-four of broad-shouldered muscle and aloof demeanour and who decidedly does not, in fact, need to be taken care of.

It doesn’t matter. Atsumu wants to take care of him anyway. For all that Atsumu gets what he wants, he was self-aware enough to live through a handful of months where he thought his feelings were going to be unrequited for as long as they burned his heart.

Atsumu wants to spend everyday for the rest of his goddamn life with Sakusa Fucking Kiyoomi: Expert Hand Sanitizer, Meticulous Skincare Diva and one of the best fucking spikers Atsumu has ever set to.

He wants to always feel this soft and vulnerable. He wants to wake up everyday and go, _these are real feelings and Sakusa Kiyoomi is a real person_ forever because Kiyoomi is a difficult sonuvabtich but goddamn if Atsumu wouldn’t shatter every star for him and then clean up all the stardust.

He knows Sakusa loves him. Sometimes he’s insecure, sure, but he has far too much faith in his spiker, who has never minced words or been nice for the sake of it in his life. He holds this truth, this card of love, close to his chest — as possessive as a twin who has shared far too many of the important moments in his life.

***

Sakusa knows he’s not the most extroverted or amicable person but he is at least polite. Atsumu is never polite, he is an absolute terror who is both better and worse at socializing than Sakusa. The only reason why Atsumu doesn’t need as much PR help is because Sakusa is just more private inherently.

(Atsumu, above it all, can be nice, considerate and thoughtful, but only under certain circumstances and only if he feels like it. He is the nicest and most considerate and most thoughtful to Sakusa, off the court at least.

It was what made Sakusa realize Atsumu was serious about him. The way he researched and bought quality cleaning products, didn't touch him without permission, and let Sakusa shower first and wiped the shower after himself if he didn't, were all things that helped create the foundation of their relationship.)

Sakusa has never felt as flayed open as he does with Atsumu and he can say with one hundred percent certainty that he despises this feeling and will carry it with him for the rest of his life. Loving Miya Atsumu is as obstinate as it is easy. Sakusa does not know what he would do without the moments of tenderness Atsumu has gifted him, nor the terror he inflicts on his life.

***

Match point against the Schweidan Adlers and Kageyama is in rotation to serve next. He has scored three service aces in this set alone and Komori is clearly on top of his game, an absolute beast who has received a frightening amount of the Jackal’s spikes.

Atsumu takes them out with a setter dump.

They make eye contact and Sakusa reaches out, hooks an arm around his small waist and pulls him into a kiss, elated and sweet and perfect. Atsumu melts in his arms.

Their PR staff are absolutely devastated in the background, for a variety of reasons, none of which Atsumu or Sakusa particularly care about at the moment. 

***

Sakusa looks at Atsumu, who is immersed in leaving snarky, trashy comments on their friends’ Instagram posts, and thinks, _We will never get married_.

Atsumu reaches for him first before he reaches for any other person, always: after a win, during practice, in the morning. Sakusa reaches back and thinks, _He is taking my last name_.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually inspired by the entire 'Terminal Curiosity' series by favspacetwink and moonlumie; as well as the entire 'your highs and lows' series by astroeulogy. Please check them out if you haven't. They own my whole heart.
> 
> I definitely projected the relationship between me and my cousin onto Sakusa and Komori.
> 
> I know Japan doesn't allow same-sex marriage. Do with the ending what you wish.
> 
> I don't know what this was except an entirely gratuitous and soft feelings-dump and feelings-projection altogether. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
